Fading Into Darkness
by may1331
Summary: Draco Malfoy has always wanted to become a Death Eater.  When he finally gets the chance to prove himself, he learns that it's not all fun and games when he realizes that the war is real and he and his family can get hurt.
1. Prologue: The Dark Mark

With the sixth and seventh books, I always saw Draco Malfoy as a pretty interesting character. I just wanted to write his view of the war and how he feels about it.

Of course, i don't own anything. Everything belongs to the great and wonderful JK Rowling.

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><p><strong><em>Prologue<em>**

Draco Malfoy furrowed his eyebrows and tried to not show pain in his face as he was branded with the Dark Mark.

The dark green light emitted from the Dark Lord's wand as he pressed it against Draco's left forearm. He had seen the same mark on his father's and his aunt's arm and he would be lying if he had said that the thought of not becoming one of the Dark Lord's loyal followers wasn't in the forefront of his mind.

He would give anything to be among the special group that the Dark Lord considered his loyal followers.

He could feel the excitement emanating from his aunt. She stood, hovering behind the Dark Lord, shaking and grinning at him in the dim lighting. Her pale face stood out against the Dark Lord's black robes.

He could feel his mother's eyes boring into his back. She hadn't wanted him to officially join; she wanted him to be like her - loyal and a supporter of the Dark Lord's beliefs, but not to the point where he would be identically branded as his father was.

And his father...he hoped that he would make his father proud of him.

And Draco felt that he did. Although his father was locked up, far away in Azkaban, Draco could tell that all his father wanted for him was to grow up and become a loyal follower as he had been.

And now, it was official.

Draco felt a growing sort of pride in his chest. He glanced down at the Mark on his forearm and looked up at the Dark Lord, straight into the red slits that were his eyes.

"Very well, Draco," the Dark Lord said in a soft, hissing voice. His snake slithered along the ground and wrapped itself around his neck. He pressed a finger to Draco's forearm and felt the Mark burn beneath.

Draco involuntary twitched, but held his arm steady.

"I would like to give you a special mission, Draco. Can I trust you with it?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, My Lord," he said, looking down and bowing his head.

"You will complete this task until the end?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Very well." The Dark Lord paced around a few steps until he stood before him, his aunt, and his mother. The snake hissed at them, still wrapped around the Dark Lord's neck. "You must kill Albus Dumbledore. You have one year. I believe you know him, do you not, Draco?"

Draco nodded, his heart sinking. There is no possible way he could kill Dumbledore. He glanced up quickly. "Yes, My Lord. The headmaster of Hogwarts."

"And what will you do?"

"I will kill him, My Lord."

"He will be dead before the end of the year?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Repeat your mission to me."

Draco took a deep breath and swallowed. His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. He saw his aunt flit around, excitedly, barely able to contain herself. From the corner of his eye, he saw the slightest movement from his mother. But her stone face did not betray her.

"I will kill Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts. He will be dead by the time I have completed by my sixth year."

The Dark Lord carefully and slowly walked up to Draco. He leaned into Draco and whispered in his ear. "If you fail, if the Muggle-lover is still alive at the end of your 6th year...I will kill you, your mother, and your father. Dear sweet Lucius...a failure behind bars. Your mother, standing right over there...she will die first. And...Draco...you shall be the one to do it." He straightened up and gave Draco a vicious smile. Loudly he said, "Remember...if you fail..."

He and his snake disappeared with a wave of his cloak.

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><p>Please review and let me know what you think!<p> 


	2. Occlumency

A white peacock slowly emerged from the bushes in front. It shook off dirt from its feathers and continued on its way.

Draco watched the peacock impassively. He was trying to clear his mind of all thought, but everything always went back to one thing: the mission that he had been given.

He was glad that he had been given this mission. Obviously, it showed that the Dark Lord trusted him far more than he had trusted his other followers.

After secretly discussing the mission with his aunt, he had grown more confident that he would be able to carry out the plan. And when he completed his task, he would be revered far more than any other follower of the Dark Lord. He would be the one who was the most loyal supporter, the most loyal follower.

And the Dark Lord would value him over everyone else.

"Draco!"

He jumped at the unexpected sound of his name.

"Come!"

Draco warily glanced at the door. His aunt was calling him for their Occlumency lessons. his mother decided that he should become a skilled Occlumens in the unlikely event that Dumbledore found out that Draco would be spending the next year trying to kill him. At least that's what she told her sister. Draco knew that his mother really wanted him to learn Occlumency in case the Dark Lord interrogated him. She was already a skilled Occlumens, but her sister would not fear being overly forceful with her boy, which is why she wouldn't teach her son, though he probably would've preferred it to his aunt.

But Draco did not fear being interrogated by the Dark Lord or even by Dumbledore. He was sure, confident that he would kill Albus Dumbledore, if it was the last thing he'd do.

"Draco, hurry!" his aunt yelled.

He turned away from the window and headed for the drawing room where he knew his aunt and mother were waiting. As he entered, he saw his aunt standing before him, brandishing her wand. Her pale face stood out against the dim lighting and her hair stood, wild and crazy as ever. But it did not match the look in the her eyes. A look of hunger and excitement.

"Finally, Draco!" She turned her nose up at him. "Hmph. I don't like to be kept waiting," she said, pursing her lips and furrowing her brow.

Draco nodded and took a seat in front of her. His mother stood nearby, with a stern look on her face. She glanced at her sister and gave her a half-nod.

"_Legilimens!"_ his aunt yelled, pointing her wand at him.

At once, Draco grasped the handles of his chair. His breath came out heavily and his knuckles were turning white. Sweat began to drip down his forehead.

"Concentrate, Draco!" his mother demanded. "Focus."

He vaguely heard his mother's voice, but focused on her words. A number of unclear images flashed before his eyes.

"Concentrate!" he heard his mother say. "Close your mind."

He closed his eyes and focused on emptying his mind. He thought of nothing but a blank, dark space...

"Well done, draco," his aunt praised. From her mouth, it sounded more like a cackle.

Draco opened his eyes and quickly glanced at his mother for approval. Her face was impassive and she motioned for her sister to repeat the act.

He was reliving a number of memories before he could even take a breath.

"Draco!" His mother's voice sounded unusually far, as if she was a dream. He knew that she was standing just mere feet from him, so her voice shouldn't have been that faint...his mind was blank and he relinquished all thought.

"Better Draco, much better," his aunt proclaimed. "A complete natural." She laughed, madness gleaming in her eyes. "Again, shall we?" And without warning, she cast the Legilimency spell upon her nephew, but he immediately rebuffed it, using his mind.

His wand lay stowed up his sleeve.

"Oh wow, Draco..."

Again, his aunt brandished her wand at him and cast the spell. But again, he successfully blocked her from his mind. She pointed her wand at him again, frustration beginning to show in her face. Draco knew that his aunt hated being shown up, especially magically. She was going to keep attacking Draco until she won again.

"Enough." His mother's soft voice stopped his aunt. "Very good, Draco. I must go." She gave him an almost-smile and walked out of the room.

Draco and his aunt glanced at each other before looking after his mother. Immediately, the two of them headed for the door, but Draco was shoved back into the chair by his aunt. Her long, coarse curls whipped him across the face as she ran out of the room after his mother.

"Cissy!" she called. "Wait! Where are you going?"

"I have something I must do," she curtly replied. "The Dark Lord...I...I must do this. Stay here and protect my son."

Draco gave his mother a worried look. What was she going to try to do? He stepped forward. "Mum, I could take care of myself. See, I could keep him out of my head. I kept Aunt Bella out." Draco didn't know which 'he' he referred to: the Dark Lord or Dumbledore. But his mother seemed to understand, though she shook her head.

"No Draco. There is only one person who can help me. I must see Severus Snape. Bella, stay with my son."

In a split second, she turned and disappeared on the spot.

"Cissy!" Bellatrix yelled. She, too, turned and disappeared on the spot.

Draco stared at the empty room, wondering where they had gone. He looked up as if he could see through the ceiling of their large entrance hall and clutched his wand tightly in his hand. His mother had gone, his aunt chased after her, and his father was in prison.

He was in charge now.

He was head of the Malfoy Manor.

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><p>Thanks for reading!<p>

I figure Draco was more skilled at Occlumency than Harry was since he held his emotions in most of the time while Harry wore his heart on his sleeve.


	3. Borgin & Burkes

Here's the next chapter! There are some moments that overlap with HBP, but I don't copy the dialogue from the book.

Enjoy!

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><p>"Draco, hurry up," his mother called. "I do not want to dawdle at Diagon Alley."<p>

"Fine, fine," he grumbled. Draco shut the book that he had been reading. He stood from his desk and swept all of his notes and parchment into a top drawer. He carefully looked around and made sure that his mother and his aunt were not nearby. He quietly cast a Flagrante spell on the front side of the desk drawer, hoping to keep others out of his notes. If anyone were to even touch his desk drawer, he would know for they would be burned by the spell.

He did not want anyone to know what he was planning. They would just try to steal his ideas and become the Dark Lord's favorite.

But he will be. And when Draco completes his task, he will be revered above everyone else. Then his father will return from Azkaban and take his place next to the Dark Lord as his right-hand man...alongside Draco, of course.

_"If Snape doesn't get in the way,"_ he thought, darkly.

Snape, for a long time, had been his favorite professor at Hogwarts, his school. He was one of his father's old friends and he always looked out for Draco.

Draco never imagined that he was just helping himself. And now Draco's father is no longer the Dark Lord's favorite, usurped by Snape, his father's old friend.

"Draco!" his mother called.

Draco rolled his eyes and left the room, taking care to lock his door. He stowed his wand away up his sleeve and swiftly made his way to the entrance.

"Come, Draco." His mother took his arm and dragged him to the fire, where the two of them Flooed into Diagon Alley. She took out a piece of parchment and briefly looked down the list. She looked at Draco, taking careful look at him, from head to toe. "You need new robes."

"Mother, I could do my own shopping," he protested. "I'll slip into Malkin's and meet you at The Leaky Cauldron. Or at home."

She shook her head. "Come, Draco," she swiftly said,

He followed his mother reluctantly, rolling his eyes. He didn't want to come with his mother, especially if his plan was to be set in motion. He needed to give her the slip, but he had no idea how to do it. Ever since his father was put in prison, she's kept an annoyingly close eye on her. He wondered if he could somehow find a way to get his aunt to call her away. She was always willing to help Draco, especially in regards to his mission. But his mother insisted on treating him like a child.

And he hated it.

Ever since his father was caught in the Ministry of Magic, his mother kept an annoyingly close eye on him.

That _damn_ Potter.

He and his bloody friends just had to go and get his father arrested. Well, they'll get what's coming to them. He'll make sure of it.

Draco reluctantly followed his mother into Madam Malkin's. He knew his mother wouldn't budge, but he continued to complain about being treated like child. He insisted that he could do his own shopping. His mother stared at him coldly, as if she didn't hear him.

About twenty minutes later, Draco and his mother emerged from Madam Malkin's, seething and furious. They didn't buy robes for they had an unfortunate meeting with Harry Potter and his blood traitor friend, Ron Weasley, and the know-it-all Mudblood, Hermione Granger.

"Draco, you'd do well to fulfill your mission and wipe that smirk off Potter's face," his mother coldly said. She tightly gripped Draco's arm as they walked down the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley.

"Don't worry, Mother." Draco smirked to himself. "Potter will be reunited with his family soon enough." He looked down a dark alley. "I have a plan. It's foolproof." He glanced at his mother. He grew so much over the summer that he now stood a few inches taller than her. _"If only you could leave me alone so I can put my plan in motion,"_ he thought.

"Mother," he said, thinking quickly. "I still need to get my books. Why don't you get the books while I go to Twilfit's and get fitted for new robes?"

His mother gave him a cold look. "I don't think so, Draco." She led him to Flourish and Blott's.

"Mother!" he cried, shaking her off as they stepped into the crowded bookstore. "I'll get my Potions book."

"No, Draco-" she started sternly.

Draco turned away from her and pretended not to hear. He purposely hid himself in a large crowd of people and ducked down to avoid being spotted by his blonde hair. He quickly disappeared through the crowd, slipping from her fingers and didn't look back until he was sure that his mother couldn't see him anymore.

"Finally!" he exclaimed, sighing loudly in relief. He ran his fingers through his hair and hurried out of the door. He slipped down the street, past Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes and looked over his shoulder every so often to make sure his mother wasn't trailing him.

He headed down a dark alleyway and made a few turns into Knockturn Alley. Draco walked down a familiar road and furtively looked around before slowly opening the door.

"Hello Borgin," Draco sneered, arrogantly staring at the man in front of him. "I have some matters to discuss with you."

Borgin looked at Draco with disdain. "What can I do for you, kid?"

Draco raised a finger to silence Borgin. He looked around until he saw what he was searching for. "That's the Vanishing Cabinet?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Borgin didn't answer. He narrowed his eyes at the blonde teenager.

"So this is the Vanishing Cabinet?" Draco asked. "I need it. And you have to help me." He moved his hands around animatedly.

Borgin raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent.

"Is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?"

Borgin barely nodded.

"And do you know how to fix it?"

"Possibly," Borgin replied.

Draco rolled his eyes. He didn't want to include anybody else in his plan, but it seemed like he would have to. He sighed and continued to speak to Borgin. He didn't really like the attitude the older man was giving him. So what if he was only sixteen years old? He was to be respected as his father was before him. And now, his father wasn't there, so Draco was head of the Malfoy house. And he deserved the same respect that was given to his father.

He moved toward Borgin and slowly lifted his left sleeve. He smirked, seeing the look of fear cross Borgin's face. He threatened Borgin with retribution if he told anyone that he had been initiated into the closest of the Dark Lord's people. He, Draco, was one of the Dark Lord's most loyal supporters. And he, Draco, would be honored as the most loyal of all.

Especially if he carries out his task.

Draco said a few more words to Borgin and confidently stalked out of the shop. He held his head high in the dark alleyway and shoved off a few beggars who hid in the shadows of Knockturn Alley.

Now that he had completed one part of his plan, he must see to it that the rest go accordingly.

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><p>Draco spent the last week of his summer holiday locked up in his room, feverishly going over his notes. He was sure to memorize every bit of it and kept in close contact with Borgin, to receive further instructions on how to fix the Vanishing Cabinet at Hogwarts.<p>

_"It's genius," _he thought. "_Absolutely genius!"_

He was sure that his plan was foolproof. No way will that Mudblood-lover, Dumbledore, guess that Draco was planning to kill him. And no way will he guess that Draco was planning to let Death Eaters into the school.

"_Foolproof," _he said to himself. "_Absolutely foolproof."_

Of course, there were some worries that crossed Draco's mind. After all, if his Master, the Dark Lord, couldn't hurt Dumbledore, then how was he, a sixteen-year-old wizard who hadn't even come of age yet, was going to kill him?

But Draco pushed it out of his mind and never dwelled upon them.

He could tell that his mother was growing worried about him. But he was doing it for her. He didn't want to be the one to kill her. He didn't want her dead at all.

She was the only one in his life who loved him.

And he would save her from anything the Dark Lord or even Dumbledore threw their way.

He would do it for her.


	4. Hogwarts

Here's the next chapter!

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><p>Draco stepped off of the train, smirking to himself. <em>"That'll teach Saint Potter," <em>he thought, looking around and adjusting his robes. He confidently marched over to the carriages and stepped in front of Blaise Zabini, climbing into the carriage before him.

"What do you think-" Blaise started, looking angry.

"Shut it, Zabini." Malfoy carefully stepped into the horseless carriage and sat next to Crabbe.

"Where were you, Draco?" asked Pansy, inching closer to him.

"I don't believe that's any of your business," he answered with a sly smile. He was actually getting quite annoyed with Pansy. She would never leave him alone, but he enjoyed all the attention he received from her. "But let's just say that somebody definitely got what was coming to them." He glanced around and saw a familiar redhead staring at him from the carriage next to theirs. He was frowning slightly with a bushy-haired girl next to him. Draco rolled his eyes and gestured a punch to his nose. "Let's just hope that Potter has enough nose left in him so I could hit him again," he sniggered.

"You didn't!"

Malfoy smirked. "I did." He gestured around. "Do you even see him anywhere? That half-blood is going to be halfway back to London before anyone realizes that he's gone. And come off it, who's really going to care?"

"I could think of one person," Blaise said, referring to their headmaster.

"Shut it, Zabini. You always find a way to bring down the mood." Draco looked angrily at Blaise. "Besides, Dumbledore's not always going to be here to protect Potter, so who cares what that Mudblood lover wants?"

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><p>About forty-five minutes later, Draco began filling up his plate with food from all over the Slytherin table. The Sorting had already been completed and he wasn't interested in talking to the new students for this school year. He was no longer a prefect, so he no longer had to put up a pretense that showed that he actually cared about the school.<p>

He didn't belong here. He was on his way to bigger and better things.

He just had to complete this one teeny, little mission first.

Draco sneered at the sight of Dumbledore at the staff table. "_You won't be there for long," _he thought.

But a part of him was worried. Terrified, even.

If Dumbledore found out his plan, would he be kicked out? It would be harder to kill Dumbledore from beyond the walls of Hogwarts, so Draco knew that all he had to do was keep his head straight and make sure that Dumbledore didn't find out.

Easy enough. Right?

Draco rolled his eyes trying to think of it all. He wasn't paying attention to the usual argument between Crabbe and Goyle over the last dinner roll and instead turned with amusement to the Gryffindor table. He smirked, seeing blood on Potter's clothes.

"So you decided to come after all," Draco said softly. He was quietly watching the Gryffindor table, at Potter talking to Weasley.

Blaise followed his gaze. "You would think he would clean up first," he said, mildly interested.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "No matter. He'll be staying out of my way this year. I'm sure of it."

"Whatever you say, Malfoy."

Draco narrowed his eyes at Blaise, but didn't say anything. He had to remind himself that the other Slytherins didn't know what he had done over the summer. They didn't know that he was no longer a regular schoolboy at Hogwarts.

He was a part of the Dark Lord's circle now. He was a member of the wizarding elite.

And when he would kill that damned Muggle-lover, he and his family would be praised as the Dark Lord's most loyal supporters above all.

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><p>A few days later, Draco settled into his familiar seat in the Potions dungeon. He kept his eyes down and didn't notice when Blaise took the seat in front of him.<p>

"Malfoy," he said as he sat down.

Draco looked up in annoyance and merely nodded to Blaise in acknowledgement. He glanced around the Potions room and noticed that there were no more than twelve students in the room for N.E.W.T. Potions. Along with himself and Blaise, Millicent Bulstrode and Theodore Nott, two others from Slytherin were in the class. That Hufflepuff Macmillan boy was in here, too. And those Ravenclaws. Draco never bothered to learn their names.

_And them._

_What were **they** doing here?_

_They're not smart enough to be in here. Well, okay, maybe that mudblood Granger is, but Potter and Weasley?_

Draco barely listened to the new Potions professor, but his ears perked up at the sound of the Polyjuice Potion. It was precisely what he needed to be sure that his plan would work. He would have to find some way to cunningly steal the contents of this potion so he could use it for himself.

_Ugh. That mudblood is talking again._

Draco leaned over to Nott and whispered, "And the filthy mudblood speaks again. Can't wait to see what our new Potions master has in store for her." The two of them sniggered.

He glanced over at Slughorn and nearly scowled hearing the praise coming from his mouth. He recoiled at Slughorn giving that damn mudblood 20 points for being a know-it-all. He looked over at Nott and the two of them smirked at each other, both not believing Slughorn when he said that the Amortentia potion was probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in the room.

_Please. Now that was stupid._

He found himself desperately wishing that Snape was still teaching this subject. Snape, at least, kept the class entertaining. He found his mind wandering away to think of the details of his plan again.

"...liquid luck. It makes you lucky!"

Draco's ears perked up.

_Makes you lucky? I need that._

That was exactly what he needed to be able to carry out his plan perfectly. A little extra luck couldn't go remiss, could it?

He sat up, straight in his chair, and finally gave Slughorn his undivided attention.

_Perfect days, huh? Exactly what I need._

He feverishly paged through his copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_, trying to find the correct page. He nearly passed it in his haste to complete his potion quickly. He leaned over and read through the contents of the potion as fast as he could and got to work, cutting up his valerian roots as fast as he could.

Draco happened to look up and saw that Professor Slughorn was circling his way toward their table. A little sucking up couldn't help. He opened his mouth to speak in the most respectful voice he could muster.

"Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"

Slughorn nodded absentmindedly at him and said a few words. Draco's eyes narrowed.

_Okay, so cross Slughorn off of my list._

He continued to quickly work on his potion. When he looked up from it again, he saw Slughorn across the room with the damn Gryffindors, and everyone else was concentrating on their own potion. If he casually walked by the Ravenclaw table, surely he could slip some Polyjuice Potion in his robes.

He pulled his wand out and held it under the table. He whispered something and conjured up a few glass flasks. Draco quickly glanced around the room and slowly walked toward the Ravenclaw table, with a hand full of valerian roots. He dropped it on the table and smirked at the looks of the Ravenclaws. Draco didn't say a word to any of them; he just switched out his own valerian roots for the ones that a dark-haired one had been cutting up perfectly.

"Thank you for this, I needed it." Draco held up a hand full of valerian roots and headed back to his table, smirking at the success of his plan. The Ravenclaws were staring at him with their jaws open as if they couldn't believe what he had just done. Well, at least he completed a piece of his plan: he was able to slyly steal some of the Polyjuice Potion and nobody seemed to know.

Draco sat down and waited for Slughorn to reach his table to examine his potion. The new professor merely looked at it and nodded a bit, but didn't say a word about it. He moved on to the Gryffindor table and called the mudblood's potion "passable." And when he got to Potter's cauldron, he praised him.

_What the hell?_

Draco threw a murderous glance at Potter. There was no way in hell he won the Felix Felicis. He needed that luck. He listened as Weasley asked Potter how he managed to win the Felix potion.

_Lucky! No way could he be that lucky._

Draco gathered his things and threw it all together before angrily departing to the common room.

* * *

><p>He went straight to his dormitory and deposited his school bag into his trunk. He sat on his bed and drew the curtains shut around him.<p>

_"Lumos," _he said, lightening the tip of his wand. He pulled out the pages of notes that he brought with him and spread it out on his bed.

He spent hours studying the drawings and blueprints of the Vanishing Cabinet and used his quill to pencil in extra notes from the ones he received from Borgin. He glanced at a calendar and wondered when the best time would be to begin work on mending the broken Cabinet.

He remembered Montague telling him how to get into the Room of Hidden Things, where the Vanishing Cabinet was located.

Montague couldn't remember how the Weasley twins had managed to follow him into the Room of Hidden Things, but they did and they stuffed him into the Vanishing Cabinet before he could manage to curse the pair of them.

All he had to do was go up to the seventh floor and walk past the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy three times, thinking about what he wanted. The entrance would appear and Draco could freely come and go from it as he pleased.

But he needed help.

People that would help him, no questions asked. And people that were dumb enough to go along with his plan, no matter what.

Draco sat still at the sound of movement in the dormitory. He heard Crabbe and Goyle loudly smacking their lips, no doubt eating some other sweet that they snuck off from the dinner table. He wickedly smiled and glanced at the flasks of Polyjuice Potion that lay on his bed.

_Excellent. They would be perfect._


	5. Moaning Myrtle

Draco casually glanced around the seventh floor corridor as he walked down the hall. He didn't expect the seventh floor to be so crowded; usually it seemed almost abandoned. But the unforeseen blizzard forced many of the students to remain indoors. This significant fact greatly annoyed Draco to no end. He disliked how many eyes there could be on him and took care that nobody closely watched him.

He thought about the past couple of months at Hogwarts. It had already been a school term like no other. He kept mainly to himself, refusing even to confide in Crabbe and Goyle, though they have been very helpful in standing guard. He steered clear of Pansy, who grew more and more annoying everytime she spoke. If he kept company with anyone, it was Nott and Zabini since they kept their nose out of his business. He no longer went out of his to bully the younger students - of course, if they were in his way, he would do all he could to torture them. He had given up his prefect duties and his place on the Quidditch team. He knew that he had to devote this school year to one thing and one thing only.

He spent most of the year in the Room of Hidden Things. He remembered Montague telling him that when the blood-traitor Weasley twins stuffed him in the Vanishing Cabinet, he heard things going on at Hogwarts and at Borgin & Burkes. But when he found the cabinet, it was in worse condition than he imagined. And the repairs are not going well at all.

He couldn't figure out how to ask and receive instructions on repairing the cabinet without arousing suspicion from any teachers. All of the owls were being closely watched and all packages in and out of Hogwarts were inspected. So he was left to figure it all out on his own.

Draco walked down the corridor three times, thinking as hard as he could about the Room of Hidden Things. His mind briefly wandered to his glee at catching Potter and those fools that called themselves "Dumbledore's Army," but quckly pushed the thought away.

At once, a door appeared before him and he cautiously walked in, checking around him and making sure that nobody paid him any attention. He slipped inside and silently cursed Crabbe and Goyle for remaining at lunch longer.

_Honestly. Do those two ever stop eating? I **need**_ a lookout!__

Draco slowly opened the door to the Vanishing Cabinet. He had easily found the cabinet - it wasn't too difficult once he figured how to access the room again. He set his wand down next to an ugly statue witha wig and a small tiara on its head and proceeded to continue to try to repair the cabinet.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Draco stood and wiped the sweat from his forehead.<p>

Things were still not going good. He couldn't figure out how to get the cabinet to work.

Draco bit his lip, willing himself not to cry. He felt vulnerable, scared, and more alone than ever.

He couldn't confide in any of his friends, if that's what you would really call them. Come to think of it, he didn't have any friends. Sure, he was normally in the company of Crabbe and Goyle, but they were more like his bodyguards than actual friends. They were people that he could boss around, simply because he could.

And right about now, he really wished he had someone he could talk to.

He looked around, noting that he was by himself and almost let the tears flow from his eyes. He remembered that Crabbe and Goyle weren't standing guard outside the doors and ran out of the room before anything fell.

He ran and ran, until he felt his breath coming in short bursts. His chest began to pound with every step he took, so he crashed into the nearest door and fell to the ground, not even caring anymore. He fell on his knees and thrust his face in his hnads, sobbing loudly.

After a few minutes, he slowly grew under control and noticed that he was in a bathroom.

"Erm...are you all right?" asked a high-pitched voice.

_Great. Out of all the rooms I run into, it just had to a girls lavatory._

"Never better." His voice sounded dead even to himself.

"You...you could talk to me, you know," the voice said. "It's not like I have any friends. Nor a body for that matter."

Curious, Draco moved his hands from his face and looked up. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of a floating, transparent head inches from his face. He fell backward.

"Are you all right?" she asked again and pushed her glasses up with her hand.

Draco stared at her in disbelief. It wasn't that he was afraid of her; he just didn't know what to think of her. To be honest, he thought she looked liked she would sit in a corner and eat her own hair, but he couldn't very well say that to the kindest voice that he's heard in a long time.

"Who-who-who are you?" he asked, a bit rudely for he did not know how to react.

"I'm Myrtle."

The two of them faced each other. Draco stood up and she floated a few inches from him. He looked around warily.

"Nobody's in here, you know," she said. "Nobody likes to go in any of the bathrooms that I occupy."

Draco stared at her for a long time. Sure, he's seen a number of ghosts, especially here at Hogwarts, but he's never spoken to them. He especially does not like speaking to the Bloody Baraon, the ghost of his own House.

"Why are you dead?" he asked, suddenly. He wiped the remnants of tears from his face.

A flash of anger cut across Myrtle's eyes. "Why are you alive?" she replied, haughtily.

Draco felt a twinge of remorse at her response.

_I suppose that was a bit insensitive._

"Well. I think I will be dead soon."

"If that's suppose to make me feel better, it doesn't! I will still be dead whether or not you stay alive! Hmph!" She floated up to the top fo the bathroom and turned away, crossing her arms.

Draco watched her, unsure at what to say. He had never had to apologize for anything in his life and he wasn't about to. He turned to walk out when she suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Why are you going to die?"

Evidently, her curiousity outweighed the offense she took at Draco's comment. He waited a bit before answering. A part of him did not want to answer, but another part desperately wanted to talk to somebody.

"You won't tell anyone?" he asked, with an accusatory note in his voice.

"Who have I to tell? There used to be this boy who visited me in my bathroom once, but he hasn't been to visit me for months and months..."

"I...I...You must swear to me that you would never speak about this to anyone."

Myrtle moved closer to Draco's face. He resisted the urge to step back. "I swear," she said. "Are you all right?"

At once, Draco burst into tears. "I don't know what to do! He's going to make me kill my own mother and I'm terrified of him and I don't want to do this anymore; I haven't got anybody to talk to because they all hate me and I hate them and I have nobody that I could turn to and nobody that I could trust because they all want to kill me!"

"Oh...there, there," Myrtle said in what she thought was a comforting manner. "I don't think I could help you with whatever you have to do, but I can be somebody you talk to. We're a lot alike, you know. It sounds like people are bullying you. I used to be bullied. When I was alive. By that dumb, stupid, Olive Hornby. Who is your bully? Maybe I could haunt them. I used to haunt Olive Hornby, you know. Until she went to the Ministry of Magic and they made me come back to my toilet."

"You...you were bullied?"

"Oh yes." Myrtle nodded vigorously. "Quite horrible, actually. It made me go to the bathroom and cry. Quite like you've just done."

"And then, what happened? Is that how you died? Will I return as a ghost if I die? I mean, when I die?"

"I don't know. When I died, I just died. It was horrible. I thought I heard a boy in the bathroom and I was going to tell him to go away, but when I opened the bathroom stall, I just died.

"Just like that? You just died?"

Myrtle nodded again. "Yes. Just like that."

"Did...did it hurt?" He was genuinely curious, but he silently chastised himself for such a childish question.

"Mmm...no. It didn't hurt. Not from what I could remember."

"Does any of it hurt?"

Myrtle thought for a moment. "From what I could remember, living actually hurt a lot."

"So it's better to be dead?"

"No, I hate being dead."

For the first time in years, Draco cracked a smile. "Well, now you're just confusing me."

Myrtle shrugged and grinned. "I only wish that I could help you out of whatever trouble you're in."

"Well, what do I do if I had been given a task that's impossible to complete?"

"Find a way to make un-impossible?"

Draco shook his head sadly. "I don't think there's a way, Myrtle." He exhaled loudly. "But thank you for talking to me."

"Are you leaving already?"

He nodded. "I've already spent so much time in a girls' lavatory. They will notice my absence. Besides, I should return to my task."

Myrtle giggled. "This is a boys' lavatory, not a girls'!"

"What are you doing in here, then?"

"I could visit wherever I wish!" She giggled again. "Will you visit me again?"

He nodded. "Yes. This same bathroom?"

Myrtle nodded vigorously again. "Yes, of course!"

"Thank you, Myrtle." He raised a hand in farewell and hardened his face before exiting out the door.

* * *

><p>I think that Myrtle was the only one who Draco felt really comfortable around. She seemed to have an affinity towards him, so I would imagined that he was quite polite to her rather than rude and nasty, like he normally is.<p>

Thanks for reading!


	6. Sectumsempra!

Things were still going badly. Draco feared that he would never kill Dumbledore. He had no idea how he could do it.

The necklace didn't work.

Instead, it nearly killed someone else.

Draco normally wouldn't have cared about about the Gryffindor Chaser, but for some reason, he didn't want to be the reason for anybody's death, if he could help it.

Especially his mother's.

So he had no choice, but to kill Dumbledore. And it terrified him. More and more each day.

He thought for sure that the poisoned mead would get the job done. After all, the Granger girl said that Filch couldn't recognize poisons. And why would Dumbledore suspect anything from Rosmerta? Yes, Imperiusing her was a genius idea. So was the use of enchanted coins.

_Chalk another one up to the Granger girl. Granger? What the hell? The mudblood girl. Yeah, the mudblood girl is smart. She should really trademark her ideas or anyone could use them._

He sulked into his Potions class and his eyes flashed angrily as he noticed that it was mainly empty, other than himself, Slughorn, that Macmillan prat, and Potter.

"...young to Apparate just yet?" Slughorn was asking.

_Oh damn. Stupid Apparition test. Just cancel class, Slughorn!_

"...something amusing!"

_What the hell? I could just use this time to fix the Vanishing Cabinet._

Draco noticed Potter's eyes on him from across the room. He's been noticing that Potter's been staring at him a lot, lately.

_No matter. He has no idea what's coming for him. Bastard!_

He still blamed Harry for putting his father into prison. For sending his mother into a deep depression. For making his father fail at returning the damn prophecy. And because of that, he blamed Potter for forcing him into becoming a Death Eater. Draco never would have become one if not for Lucius' failures. Failures due to Harry Potter.

Deep down, Draco knew it wasn't Harry's fault. He knew the Dark Lord was the one who gave him this impossible task. A task that must be completed or it will mean his own death. He knew that the Dark Lord was probably laughing over every little detail that Draco would send back. He knew that the Dark Lord no longer looked at his family as the favorites, thanks to Snape. He knew that the Dark Lord was just toying with him until he was killed.

And he hated him for it.

But Draco knew that it was a lifetime of service or death. And though death seems like a better option, Draco would never leave his mother to the hands of the Dark Lord or his Aunty Bella. She would never survive.

Draco glanced up and saw Potter staring at him again.

_What the hell do you want, Potter?_

What is that look in Potter's eyes? It was not the usual disdain that he saw. Was it glee? Why would Potter be gleeful in something regarding him? Does he know something?

_No. He can't know anything. Dumbledore doesn't even suspect anything. There's no way that Potter could know._

He turned back to his potion and absentmindedly began making his Hiccuping Solution. He didn't particularly care how it turned out; he just wanted to be hurry up and get out of there. He wished he could just leave, but he couldn't afford any more detentions. They were cutting into his time in the Room of Hidden Things. He spent all the time that he could in that room, determined to figure out some way to completely repair the Vanishing Cabinet.

As soon as the bell rang and Slughorn deemed his potion "passable," Draco went as fast as he could to the Room of Hidden Things.

* * *

><p>Draco banged the door to the Vanishing Cabinet shut. He kicked it and fought the urge to throw a spell at it.<p>

"Damn you!" he yelled.

Now, he couldn't figure out how to make it work. He thought he had successfully Vanished something into Borgin & Burkes, but he was mistaken. It actually seemed that he had taken a few steps back.

He took a seat in front of the cabine and put his head in his hands, feeling the urge to begin crying again.

"No, Draco, stop!" he told himself.

But the more he tried to stop himself from crying, the less he could resist. He found himself running down the hallway into a bathroom, where he had begun to spend a lot of time.

"Myrtle?" he called out, running to the sink. He quickly turned it on and splashed water on his face.

"Are you all right?" she asked, floating above a cubicle.

Immediately, he began to cry. He stared at himself in the mirror, disgusted with himself and bowed his head. He clutched the sides of the sink and began to shake.

"I...I don't know what to do. He said he would kill me after I've killed my mother! I can't figure out how to work it or...how to...how to..." He sobbed loudly as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"...tell me what's wrong," Myrtle said, trying to comfort him. "I can help you..."

"No one can help me," he replied. He shook harder. "I can't do it...I can't...it won't work...and unless I do it soon...he says he'll kill me." He hiccuped and didn't wipe the tears from his face.

He looked up into the mirror and gasped at the sight of Potter staring at him over his shoulder. He gulped and spun around, pulling out his wand and sending a jinx Potter's way. His jinx missed Potter by mere inches and he noticed Potter preparing a nonverbal spell. He quickly blocked it and sent another spell at Potter.

_What did he hear? He can't have heard much, I never tell Myrtle specifics!_

He noticed Potter slipping in the water and contorted his face, thinking of the only spell that could cause Potter as much pain as he felt on a daily basis: _"Cruci-"_

_"SECTUMSEMPRA!" _Potter bellowed, sending Draco straight to the floor, spurting out blood from his face and his chest. Draco staggered backward in pain and fell to the floor, barely feeling the water flow around him.

All he could think about was the pain he was in and how he wished it would stop.

_Kill me now, Potter, and save me the trouble of being tormented on a daily basis. Kill me now so he won't do it. This is pain, but I know it will a million times worse if he does it._

Draco wanted to yell out, scream, but his voice didn't seem to be working. He tried to hold on to his wand, but he couldn't keep his grip on it. He stared at the ceiling, trying to focus on something, but he couldn't find anything. He could feel his eyes glazing over and he tried to cover up the wounds on his chest. He could hear Myrtle yelling, but couldn't decipher exactly what she was saying. He was still shaking, so hard that he could barely breathe. Or maybe it was due to his injuries that he couldn't breathe. Whatever it was, he just wanted it to stop.

In what seemed like an eternity, Draco saw Snape lean over him and mutter a song-like incantation. The pain seemed to be leaving his body; the blood seemed to be stopping.

_Please, just let me die!_

Snape continued the spell and wiped blood from Draco's face. Draco couldn't say anything, nor could he move. He still felt weak, but no longer felt like he was being torn apart from the inside. Snape repeated the spell a third time and Draco felt his wounds begin to heal.

_No...just let me die, Snape!_

He felt himself being carried into a standing position. Snape was talking to him, but he couldn't tell what he was saying. He couldn't speak or he would've tried to stop Snape from leading him somewhere...the hospital wing, it seemed, when he arrived. He felt as if he was floating on a cloud as Snape led him to a bed. Madame Pomfrey even seemed to be a bit sympathetic toward him and that has never happened before. She despised him more than he despised her.

"Take this Mr. Malfoy," she was saying in a kind voice. She forced a potion into his throat. Draco didn't even have the energy to fight it. He felt something syrupy and warm go down his throat and immediately, he fell into a deep sleep.

When he awoke, he cringed, hearing Pansy's high-pitched and annoying voice.

_Doesn't she ever leave me alone?_

He could hear Pansy vilifying Potter and while he agreed with everything she was saying, he didn't have the energy to deal with her. He listened around to who else was around and recognized Blaise's voice. He had to admit that he was a bit surprised that he was at his bedside, but he kept his surprise hidden and his eyes closed. He listened to the two of them continue to bash Potter and his friends.

_Oh...why didn't you just kill me, Potter? _

Draco hated that he was even thinking of owing Potter anything. Or wishing that Potter did anything for him. Even though he should've just killed him when he had the chance. They hated each other enough.

He thought back to that day in Diagon Alley, when he and Harry first met at Madam Malkin's. They never brought up that day, considering the next time they had "met," they had both already seemed set on their ways to becoming enemies. He remembered wanting to be friends with Potter on that first train ride, since Potter was already famous in their world. Draco had figured that they would be friends - he, a Malfoy and Potter, a famous 11-year-old wizard. But Draco had only scratched the surface of how far apart their lives truly were.

He was a Malfoy. Destined to become what his father was - a Death Eater. To follow the Dark Lord, no questions asked. To be a sworn enemy of all those against his master. To hate the boy wizard who forced his master into hiding.

He never imagined that he would hate the person he was becoming.


	7. The Lightening Struck Tower

An eerie, green glow lit up the Slytherin common room. Draco sat in his favorite chair, watching as everyone slowly emptied into their dormitories. He struggled to keep his anxiousness at bay, but was failing miserably at it, tapping his foot against the carpet and checking his coin every chance he got.

He received a message from Rosmerta earlier, telling him that Dumbledore was at Hog's Head for the evening. Whether or not he was actually there, he didn't know. But it did mean one thing: Dumbledore was not at Hogwarts. And that would allow for Draco to lead the Death Eaters into Hogwarts.

He counted down the minutes until he would head to the Room of Hidden Things. It had taken him many months, many long, hard, and trying months, but he had finally been able to do it. He had finally fixed the Vanishing Cabinet.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Draco found himself desperately trying to blend into the wall next to the staircase that led up to the Astronomy Tower. There was fighting all around him, but he did not wish to be a part of it. After all, he had a job to do. And all he had to do was wait.<p>

The plan had been set in motion. He led his fellow Death Eaters, by way of the passage between the Vanishing Cabinets, into Hogwarts. Something that he was confident that Dumbledore would never think possible. But he, Draco Malfoy, did the impossible. He led Death Eaters into Hogwarts.

And now he was supposed to do another impossible deed. One that he was not sure he would carry out.

But if he was able to mend the Cabinet, surely he would be able to carry out his deed.

The Dark Mark shined brightly above the tallest tower. Draco could see the greenish light through a window in the hallway. After he led the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, he ran up to the Astronomy Tower to set the Mark and wait for Dumbledore. But members from the Order got in the way, leading to all the fighting going on around him.

Draco barely noticed it. He was too focused on what he had to do. He was a bit terrified at being alone when Dumbledore would arrive at the tower, so he found himself teetering between the staircase and the wall. He saw his fellow students, the foolish members of Dumbledore's Army, fighting alongside members of the Order, and briefly wondered how they knew to come.

His ears strained up to the tower.

_Is that talking, I hear? Is Dumbledore here at last?_

His heart was pounding. He could hear it in his ears and felt it in his throat. Draco grasped his wand and clutched it tightly in his hand. Already, sweat poured from his hand, making it a bit difficult to hold onto his wand.

He took a deep breath and began to walk up the stairs, dreading every step.

* * *

><p>"<em>Avada Kedavra!<em>"

Draco stood, open-mouthed, with his wand still shaking and pointed at the spot where Dumbledore's body once stood. He felt a rough hand shove him down toward the stairs and his mind felt disconnected with the rest of his body.

_It's happened._

Snape shoved him down the hallway and bustled through the hallway. Teachers and Death Eaters alike stood aside for them.

_He can't really be dead._

Although Draco didn't particularly like the headmaster, even he felt that with Dumbledore alive, his master could somehow be stopped. But now...now he was just a pawn in his master's plan to take over the Wizarding World. And Snape had once again stolen his family's glory.

His family would never be forgiven. So what did that mean for him? What did that mean for his mother? His father?

Snape continued to lead Draco down the Hogwarts grounds and shoved him harshly before him. Draco's legs were moving, struggling to keep up with the others. He felt Snape fall back, but Draco didn't look behind him. He couldn't look behind him. The only thing he wanted was to get out of Hogwarts. He hated that place. And didn't care if he would never see it again.

They reached the Hogwarts gates and headed toward Hogsmeade. There, they Apparated to the Malfoy Manor.

"Draco!"

There were so many voices around him. Cheers of triumph and glee. He knew they were all happy. Happy that the champion of the Mudbloods was dead.

"Draco!"

Through all of the voices, he heard his mother calling for him. He refused to raise his head, afraid that his eyes would betray the terror that he felt.

"Draco!"

His mother's firm, but soft hand grasped his and she led him away. He followed her into his bedroom and heard her lock his door. She moved a chair in front of the door and gently pushed him down to sit on it. She took his face into her hands and looked deeply into her son's eyes.

A look of worry crossed her face.

"You didn't do it," she said in relief.

He shook his head. Tears quickly filled his eyes and were threatening to fall. He began to shake uncontrollably and his mother placed her hands on his shoulders to calm him down.

"Draco..." she said, softly.

Her voice was more gentle and kind than he had heard in a long time. Draco looked up at her with surprise in his eyes. He felt as if he was eight years old again and he had fallen off his broomstick and his mother was comforting him. It was a bit too much for him and the tears that he had been trying to hold back were finally released and he threw himself into his mother's arms, silently sobbing into her shoulder.

"Shh..." she said, stroking the back of his head. "You mustn't let them hear you."

"I couldn't do it, Mother," he cried. "I couldn't. I-I-"

"You are not a killer, Draco," she said.

"That's what he said. He said that, too."

"You saw him? You saw Dum-"

Even his mother couldn't say his name out loud.

Draco nodded, tears streaming down his face. "The plan worked out perfectly. The only thing-the only thing...I-I-I..." His wand arm began to shake uncontrollably. Narcissa took his hand into her own.

"The important thing is that the deed is done."

"What will happen to us? To Father? I didn't do it. Snape did it."

Narcissa pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. "I don't know what will happen to us." She took Draco into her arms once more and hugged him close. "I don't know what will happen."

"Will-will...will he kill us?" Draco felt his mother's heartbeat quicken and her grip tighten.

"I don't know. But we must do as we're told. This is not what I wanted for you, Draco."

Draco fell silent. The two of them listened to the celebrations taking place throughout their house.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Mother," Draco said softly, into Narcissa's shoulder.

"Me too," she replied. "But we must. We must do as we're told. Follow what he says. We have no other choice."

"And if we don't?"

"Then we die."

* * *

><p>That's the end of the story. Again, I didn't want to take a lot of dialog from the book, so I just glossed over the parts in HBP that involved Draco &amp; Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower.<p>

Thanks for reading!


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